


Dancing Through Life

by tangerinabina_de_archanea



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Shin Ankoku Ryuu to Hikari no Ken | Fire Emblem: Shadow Dragon
Genre: F/M, Mild Blood, how many more fics can i name after songs about dancing from musicals?? A LOT, i couldn't sleep until it was done, i wrote this at two in the morning FSDJFLJSDLFJSDLFJ, like rly mild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-07-31 17:44:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20119066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tangerinabina_de_archanea/pseuds/tangerinabina_de_archanea
Summary: Marth detests dancing. Perhaps it is not accurate to say that he detests the art itself, but rather, learning the art. When he writes to Caeda about it, she vehemently agrees. Still, they are expected to dance, and dance they must.Marth and Caeda learn to dance throughout their lives in many ways.





	Dancing Through Life

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Bell for beta reading for me!!! You're the best!!

Marth detests dancing. Perhaps it is not accurate to say that he detests the art itself, but rather, learning the art. His sister, his mother, and his father make it look so easy when they do. He detests it so much that he nearly hates it- but he would never say that he hates it, because hate is a strong word and saying it makes him feel like there is an awful hot stone in his belly, eating him up from the inside. He does not hate dancing lessons, but he certainly does not like them.

When he writes to Caeda about it, she vehemently agrees. She is not as afraid to use the word hate in regards to dancing lessons, because to Caeda, words are just words, and words have their appropriate uses, and “hate” is the only appropriate word for her feelings on the matter. She writes that she has danced in the sky with pegasi, and that is very easy and wonderful, but dancing on the ground with her own two awkward feet is overall horridly difficult and unpleasant. Some nights, she swears that the dance instructor must be outside her door, chirping the irritating little pattern of “One, two, three! One, two, three!” over and over again. How else would she hear it in her dreams?

Still, they are expected to dance, and dance they must.

* * *

Marth learns a new kind of dance when he is slightly older, but one with a blade between him and his partner. He twirls and spins and leaps, moving to a rhythm only determined by the clashing blades. He much prefers this kind of dancing, for he can choose the music to keep time to, but the first time he draws blood he falters. It was an accident, to be sure, but the dance of the sword is no longer a pleasant one, and it reminds him all too harshly of the grim realities of what training with a weapon truly is.

Caeda abandons dancing on the ground altogether and takes to the sky, where she feels safer and, ironically, more grounded. High above the castle, she cavorts and swoops and dives through the air, listening to the music of her lance whooshing through the breeze. Her lance does not slip and draws no blood, but she knows that it could, and she tries to ignore the feeling in the pit of her stomach whenever she thinks about it.

Instead of dwelling on it, Caeda writes to Marth of how beautiful Talys is from the heavens, and how she wishes Marth could join her up there. She insists that the next time he visits, he should sit behind her on her pegasus and dance through the skies. Marth politely declines, writing that he is sure it would be enchanting, but also reminding her of how terrified he is to even venture to the tallest towers of his home. It is bad enough with stones beneath him, he writes, let alone nothing but some pegasus and a frighteningly large amount of empty air. Caeda laughs when she receives his letter, and promises that when they see each other next, she will be sure to keep him away from high places.

* * *

When they see each other next, it is in unhappy times. Marth, now orphaned and homeless, walks down the gangway of his ship with all the grace and dignity required of a prince, but when he is alone with Caeda, all of that falls away and he simply cries.

Marth is utterly devoted to his training, always talking of reclaiming his kingdom and defeating Dolhr and Gra, and it frightens Caeda. He is still a gentle soul at heart, but she sees things that she does not like in the way he grips his sword, or in the dark looks that pass over him when he has spent too much time thinking alone. 

Caeda does not want to lose the Marth she knew, and so she stays on the ground with him most of the time, learning to dance with a sword across from him. When she does well, Marth smiles, and it is in those moments that she can take his hand and pull him away from the castle, away from the grim reminders of impending war, and they can climb trees and run in the fields and ride pegasi (low to the ground, for Marth’s sake) as if everything was right with the world.

* * *

The war is difficult, and has dragged on for too long. It is taking a toll on both of them. Their tents are separate, naturally, but more often than not, one of them is not where they should be. Marth and Caeda, however, are both right where they should be when they are together, whether it be in each other’s arms or simply being near each other, and that is enough.

Marth only wishes for a few quiet moments with her, ones in which they are not discussing the coming battles, or the army’s provisions, or anything of the like, but it is not like either of them to sit and do nothing. Marth ponders this, and then he suggests that they dance. Caeda laughs and remarks on how they both hate dancing (dislike, Marth corrects her), but in the end she says yes, because like Marth, she is exhausted and wants nothing more than a break.

Their hands and feet are awkward as they try to find their places. Caeda cannot remember if her free hand should go on his shoulder or his upper arm, and Marth can’t remember whether or not their joined hands should be merely touching, or clasping each other. After nearly a minute of confusion and nervous laughter, Caeda settles for the shoulder and Marth settles for gripping her hand as if for dear life. They stare at each other for a moment, then burst out laughing, simultaneously realizing that learning the art of war has left no room in their heads for how to begin the art of dancing.

Slowly, shakily, they begin to figure it out, stepping on each other’s toes the whole while and making fumbling apologies. As they move, they feel the sudden closeness of their partner, and the few collisions don’t help matters. By the end, both are flustered but happy. Even if their dance instructors would have clucked their tongues in disappointment, Marth and Caeda feel that they have learned something, perhaps not about dance, but certainly about each other.

As Caeda leaves for the night, Marth misses her warmth and starts wondering why he ever disliked dancing.

* * *

By the time the war ends, Marth and Caeda are quite accomplished dancers. Neither are something to marvel at, to be sure, but they have learned how to dance with each other, familiar with how the other moves and graceful in their own ways.

When they dance at the ball celebrating their engagement, no one can take their eyes off them. It is not because it is a particularly fine example of dancing- their timing is off, some movements jerky, and a few toes are stepped on along the way- but even as they glide across the room, fumbling as if trying not to fall, they are captivating in their love. When Marth kisses her at the end of their dance, it truly seems that all will be right with the world from now on. 

* * *

Marth and Caeda still dance in private, much more slowly than the royal orchestra would ever allow them to. Their music is their heartbeats and shared breath, and gentle hums and whispers of “I love you.” Caeda leads these dances and Marth gladly lets her.

* * *

The royal couple finally assent to allowing a dance instructor back into their lives, only because Jagen insists that they must be graceful and perfect when they dance at their wedding. Once again, the ancient cry of “One, two, three! One, two, three!” echoes in Caeda’s head, and for the first time in a long while Marth does not enjoy dancing with his fiancée. Caeda doesn't even need to tell him that she shared the sentiment. He knows.

The dance they are taught is unnatural to them, too clipped and clean and wholly restrictive, and both long to dance to their hearts, not to a metronome. Soon enough, they get their wish, although not in the way they would like. News of an uprising reaches the castle, and the wedding must be postponed, and so the dance instructors scurry away like mice fleeing a ferocious cat, already planning on returning with their pestilence once the cat has gone away.

* * *

The war is tiring, as before, but now it is even worse. Marth and Caeda dance every day, but not in each other’s arms. Marth waltzes with enemies on the ground, day in and day out, and Caeda does the same in the sky. When they try to dance together, it is dull and uninspired, their movements tempered by exhaustion, and so they simply retire, letting dreamless sleeps carry them away for the night as they lay in each other’s arms. For once, Marth does not hesitate in saying that he hates it. 

They would give anything for dance instructors to be the greatest of their troubles again.

* * *

The war comes to an end, as wars do, with a great battle and momentous triumph. The celebrations and reconstruction to be done afterward barely leaving them time for themselves, let alone dance instructors, and partially because of that, and partially because they are so impatient, they marry as soon as possible after the war’s end. The preparations from before the war are quickly resumed, although on a much smaller scale, which is fine by both Marth and Caeda. All they need on that day is each other.

Their wedding finally comes, after what seems to be much too long, and after their vows they dance together. It is beautiful, and out of time, and stunning, and a bit awkward, and so full of love, and so full of toes being stepped on. It moves Jagen, and several others, to tears.

Marth remembers again as he leans in to kiss his wife why he loves dancing, and Caeda reciprocates in kind, holding her husband tightly as the music fades out.

They stop, but this is only momentary, for they have started a dance that will last the rest of their lives together. In both their hearts resides one shared wish, and it is that this beautiful new dance will never end. 


End file.
